He gasped, froze for a moment, then pulled away.
His dark brown eyes snapped open. "Damn. This won't happen again."
Tyler whirled around, headed down a hall, and disappeared.
Courtney's legs buckled and she collapsed slowly down a wall.
Harvey trotted over to investigate, putting his head on her lap when he detected her distress.
"Well," she muttered. "That went well." Maybe Tyler's mother had been right. Because this particular low-class woman's heart was about to explode right there in Tyler's mansion.
Ten minutes later, the man in question emerged from his room dressed in a suit and tie and looking as cool and collected as if he hadn't just kissed the living daylights out of his hired help.
"I'll be back early," he told her. He shoved a thick stack of fifty-dollar bills at her, letting them fall to the floor when she ignored them. "In case you need something during the day. For Harvey."
He was gone before she could come up with an answer. Of course, there wasn't any answer. She was as guilty as Tyler. He had started the kiss, but she'd draped her body all over his, she'd shoved her breasts at him like she was trying to push two soccer balls past a goal, and she'd grabbed for his erection. He probably thought she was just another of the fortune-hunting women who couldn't wait to score themselves a billionaire. The worst part was, she couldn't really blame him.
* * * *
She should leave.
That was obvious. Equally obviously, she couldn't be falling in love with Tyler. She'd known him for less than twenty-four hours, after all. The assurance that she was experiencing a major crush rather than something more serious didn't mean that it didn't hurt. And the signs were there even before Eve Atwood had laid the truth out for everyone to see. Tyler wasn't the kind of man to settle down with any woman, let alone a woman from the wrong side of the tracks.
"What am I going to do with you?" she asked the dog.
Harvey gave a pitiful moan, then scraped at the back door.
Well duh. They'd been too busy with the break-in and the cops to take him for his morning walk.
She gathered up his leash, found her coat, and set off into the winter slush.
Tyler's home was set in a cluster of similarly massive mansions from the robber baron era of Philadelphia history. As she and the dog jogged along, they were passed by a variety of glistening cars, and the occasional nanny out walking a difficult child.
"Mr. Tyler has a dog that looks just like that," the half-sized kid wore clothing that could have come from Wanamaker or Brooks Brothers but definitely not from Wal-Mart, where Courtney did her shopping. "Except his dog barks all the time."
"It's the same dog," she explained. "Harvey is still getting used to living with Mr. Atwood so he misbehaves sometimes."
"Me too." A big grin crossed the kid's face. "'Cept I like misbehaving. 'Cause I'm bad. I'm Barton, by the way. Barton Warrenson. I'm five years old. I live next door to Mr. Tyler."
"I'm Courtney and I'll bet you're not really bad."
"But the dog behaves for you," the college-age nanny said. "I wonder why he's so bad with Mr. Atwood? Hmm, come to think of it, I'd be bad for Mr. Atwood. He's a complete hotty."
As if Courtney needed a second opinion on that. "One thing that would help Harvey is if he had a job to do. Do you have any suggestions, Barton?" She had a sneaking suspicion that Barton just might need a job himself. No five-year kid could be 'bad.' It took time to go bad and Barton hadn't had enough.
Barton held out a rather large and fancy model sailboat. "My grandfather gave me this. I sail it in the pond at the park and it gets stuck. Then I have to make Rosie wade out for it. Maybe the dog could catch it for me."
"Now that's a good idea," the nanny said.
Courtney didn't even have to guess who Rosie was.
And it was a good idea. Except it wasn't something Tyler could do with Harvey. Not unless he got himself a toy boat.
She felt her cheeks get warm at the idea of Tyler, perhaps with a little boy like Barton, playing with a sailboat in the neighborhood pond. It wasn't a scene she could ever participate in. But that didn't lessen the romantic appeal.
"Okay. Let's give that a try."
The park was only a few blocks away. Getting into the spirit of the event, Barton plopped his boat into the water and sailed it directly into a mudbank in the middle of the pond where it firmly stuck.
"Get it, Harvey," Courtney ordered.
Harvey gave a cheerful bark, leapt over the wall of the pond, and swam through the ice-cold water to the waiting boat.
"Mrs. Warrenson will be angry if the boat is damaged," Rosie whispered. "Are you sure this is all right?"
"Do you really want to wade out there in this weather?" Courtney asked. "Besides, retrievers were bred with soft mouths especially so they wouldn't damage prey. He won't hurt the boat."
A distant winter sun poked its way through the gray overcast and, with no wind, the morning became pleasant. The four of them, two women, a child, and a dog, spent a pleasant two hours sailing the boat into various traps and setting Harvey to retrieve it.
Harvey was wet, muddy, and as happy as she'd seen him when they finally headed back to Tyler's mansion. He held his tail a little higher, had just a hint of an extra bounce in his step.
"I'll get you a bath, then I'll let you help me with some of the other patients in my pet psychology practice," she told him. "But no scaring the cats or birds."
She wasn't sure, but she thought he nodded in response. Golden retrievers weren't noted for their intelligence, but whatever mixed breed had entered Harvey's bloodline, it had given him some real smarts.
She opened the door and walked into what looked like an elegant business-wear convention. About eight men and five women in Ralph Lauren, Brooks Brothers, and Hugo Boss suits stood around a computer projection on one wall arguing about some numbers. Tyler, of course, was at the center of attention, and everyone seemed to be waiting to see which way he leaned before making a commitment. Even business executives could be suck-ups, Courtney mused to herself.
"What happened to Harvey?" Tyler dropped any pretense of paying attention to the numbers projected on the wall. "Were you in an accident? He's covered with mud."
"He has a new job. He fetches a boat for a little boy named Barton Warrenson."
"It's freezing cold out there. He might get sick."
Faces, which had been blank or accepting when she'd walked in the door, closed against her. She was in trouble with the boss and nobody was going to stand up for her.
Good thing she had plenty of practice being treated like a part of the furniture rather than a person with feelings. "Harvey won't get sick. He's got a thick undercoat that protects him from cold water. Now he's going to get a bath, and then he's going to help me with my work. I've got my first client coming in half an hour."
"We'll have to talk about this," Tyler said.
"Oooookay." What part of her explanation had Tyler not understood?
She led the dog into one of Tyler's huge bathrooms, plopped him in the swimming-pool sized tub, and ran the warm water.
Harvey rolled in the water, let her shampoo him, and then shook out his coat in a glorious display of water and mud.
"That wasn't very nice," she told the animal. She used a couple of towels to wipe up the mess, thankful that Eve couldn't see her, and finished drying off the pooch. Finally, she found something clean for herself.
"Now come on. I've got clients."
* * * *
Tyler's business meeting wasn't really about making decisions. He had already made up his mind about the investment and had dipped deep into his personal resources to make sure the company wouldn't get caught in a cash-crunch. But he wanted the team onboard before the expansion. The military sector had been going great-guns for years, but it wasn't going to drive Atwood Steel to the next level. And in business, as in all relationships, you either grow or you die.
"Are you okay, Tyler?" Jac
k stuck around after the others left. "You look a little off your feed."
"Getting better," he admitted. "I got half a night's sleep last night."
"What happened?"
"What happened was Courtney Zane. The woman you saw with Harvey a couple of hours ago."
Jack shook his head slightly. "I can understand the appeal, boss. But this will be the biggest deal in your life. You need to be one-hundred percent focused. From the bloodshot look in your eyes, you need sleep more than you need bedroom calisthenics."
Tyler started to explain but stopped himself. What was he going to say? That he'd slept fine until his mother had burglarized his house? Jack might be his best friend, but there were some things a man didn't share, even with a friend.
"You worry about yourself," he said. "I'm completely under control."
"The company could float a bond issue to finance this revamping and expansion of our manufacturing process," Jack reminded him. "You don't need to plow your own money into it."
"I've got my eyes on an acquisition," Tyler said. "I want the company's borrowing ability intact so we can make a deal. Besides, putting money into the company shows my confidence. I happen to think it's a good investment."
Jack shook his head. "You're taking a big personal risk. Your financial advisors must be telling you to diversify."
"My father never took a risk in his life--and he spent the family into bankruptcy. Caution is fine, but too much leads to cowardice."
It took another ten minutes, but he finally ushered Jack out of his house and went looking for Courtney. For his dog, really, he assured himself. Courtney just happened to be the person working with Harvey right then.
Courtney's client was leaving, a big smile on her aging lips. And Tyler froze. He hadn't expected to see Mrs. Hale here.
"I've been so worried about Fluffy," the elderly woman insisted. "You're a complete life-saver, dear. Oh, why it's young Master Atwood."
"Hello, Mrs. Hale." Mrs. Hale was the only person in Philadelphia whose personal fortune dwarfed his own.
"I thought I recognized this old place," Mrs. Hale told Courtney. "Tyler Atwood is a keeper. Don't let him get away."
"I'm only living her while I work with his dog, and while the workmen are painting my building," she said.
"Oh, yes, your building. And its unexpected purchase. Odd, isn't it that painters show up in the middle of December?"
Tyler didn't like the direction this conversation was heading. "Can I help you to your car, Mrs. Hale?"
"You can carry Fluffy," she said, as if bestowing a great favor.
"Right." He bent and picked up the black-and-white cat, who looked almost as old as Mrs. Hale herself.
"Careful. She has arthritis."
"Of course."
He followed Mrs. Hale out to her car and lifted Fluffy into a carrier.
Mrs. Hale grasped his arm in her bony hand when he turned to head back to his house.
"That nice Courtney Zane has had a rough time. If I'd known you were going to kick her out, I never would have agreed to sell you that funky old building."
"She's fine here."
Mrs. Hale shook her head firmly. "She's not like those other women you hang with. You'd better treat her right."
"She's working miracles with Harvey. Of course I'll treat her right."
The older woman made a tsking sound with her tongue but she finally climbed into the back seat of her limo. "Take me home, Mr. Prescott."
* * * *
"You know Mrs. Hale?" The elderly woman clearly loved her pet, which was why Courtney had let her pay only five dollars a visit. When she'd first seen Courtney's fee schedule, she'd shaken her head and asked if Courtney didn't have a senior citizen discount. Five dollars a week didn't help much with the rent, but it helped Courtney feel good inside. Especially since she had been able to persuade Fluffy to start eating again.
Tyler nodded. "She knew my grandparents."
Courtney understood. That explained the high-class accent and culture and Mrs. Hale's apparent poverty. She'd probably been involved in manufacturing and lost everything, like Tyler's family had.
"Got it. Well, she was my last client for the day."
"Good. Because I wanted to talk to you about Harvey."
Well duh. Of course he wanted to talk about his dog. After their kiss, it was understandable that she might have forgotten that she was simply his employee. Tyler probably wanted to make sure she had her priorities straight.
"I think we made some good progress today. Harvey really enjoyed his job fetching Barton's sailboat. I think you should consider--"
"It's forty degrees outside, Courtney." Tyler's voice cut her off before she could continue. "It isn't safe for animals to be swimming around in the mud and water. What are you trying to do? Kill Harvey?"
Harvey thumped his tail in the ground, happy to hear his name and overjoyed to be the center of attention in his pack.
She gestured toward the happy animal. "Does he look like he's dying? He's a retriever. He was bred to fetch birds from the water. It's exactly the job he needs to give him a sense of purpose."
"You really think I have time to get a boat and hang around the park like a five-year-old kid?"
Courtney shook her head. "I saw you with all of those executives. I know you're busy. So, no, I guess you don't have time to spend with your animal. Too bad, because Harvey is a worthwhile companion."
He took a breath to answer her with some sort of blast, then stopped abruptly. "That was what I was saying, wasn't it? That I don't have time for my sister's dog."
She felt the urge to lie to Tyler. She knew how to do it, too. For years she had quietly supported her brother when he'd been fighting his addiction to alcohol, reassuring him there was nothing wrong with him. It would be so easy to tell Tyler he didn't need to change. But he did, if he wanted to keep this dog.
Tyler meant well, had stepped in to take care of Harvey when no one else was available. But he was busy. Running a multibillion dollar steel company that generated hundreds of jobs for working-class Philadelphians was important.
But Tyler's important work didn't help Harvey. Tyler had adopted Harvey. Maybe he hadn't realized what a big responsibility that could be, but that wasn't her fault. Adopting a dog meant being there for him, spending the time he needed to feel like he was a valued part of the pack.
"Harvey has a loving personality, but he needs time and attention," she said.
Tyler rubbed his eyes, still fatigued. "I know. And with my business schedule, that's hard to manage."
She clenched her hands together to battle the urge to comfort him physically. The man needed time and attention, too. But, unlike Harvey, Tyler had a list of debutantes waiting for their chance to give him all the attention he could stand.
"I don't know if you noticed, but Harvey hasn't destroyed anything today. Already you're working miracles." Tyler changed the subject a bit abruptly, but that was okay with Courtney. She'd never been very good about dealing with human emotional issues.
"Dogs are normally not that destructive," she said. "I think you can see that there are significant benefits to having clear tasks and assignments for your dog, not to mention a schedule. Dogs like predictability. Harvey will learn patience, once he learns his patience gets rewarded with a walk, a task, or play time."
"You're certain that the cold won't bother him. I'd never forgive myself if he caught pneumonia thanks to my making him go to the park and hunt for boats."
"If it's below freezing, you should find something else for him to do. But as long as it's not too cold and you don't leave him out after he gets wet, he'll be okay. Dogs are smart enough to let you know when they're having problems."
"Except sometimes they let you know in ways you don't like."
She couldn't hold back a smile. "You mean like tearing apart your house. That was horribly inappropriate behavior. Harvey probably felt guilty about it, which just made him worse."
"Well, if I'm goin
g to start letting him fetch a sailboat, I guess there's only one thing for us to do."
She looked at him quizzically. There were lots of things she could imagine doing with Tyler but she didn't know what he was getting at this time.
"What's that?"
"Go shopping."
* * * *
Shopping with Tyler was a unique experience.
Nobody told him to get his dog out of their fine stores. Nobody watched him suspiciously when he got near the expensive items in their collection.
Instead, they offered Tyler wine, begged him to take a look at the latest arrivals, and treated him like the prodigal son.
Courtney found the perfect boat for Harvey, and Tyler picked up a couple of hand-painted duck lures--once he'd made sure that they had been painted with lead-free pigments.
Nobody asked Tyler Atwood for anything as crass as a credit card. He simply signed his name to the receipts, gave his shipping address for the oversized boat, and carried the ducks with him.
"What about you?" he asked after they'd added a brush and some of the dog treats Harvey especially liked to their shopping list.
"Huh?"
"Do we need to get you something?"
"I'm good."
The look he gave her was so strange she couldn't help following up. "What?"
"I've never been shopping with anyone before where they didn't want me to buy them anything."
Courtney was as happy as any woman to have a man buy her something nice. But having an employer provide her anything meant stepping from being a professional to being the hired help. It was a step she refused to make.
"We could pick up some ingredients to make dinner."
He smiled. "I thought you didn't cook."
She shrugged and tried not to meet his gaze. Because of their kiss, because of the strong attraction she felt toward him, she needed to tell him the truth. "I might have exaggerated that. Because I'm a pet psychologist, people sometimes don't take me seriously. They act like I'm not much different from a pet walking service or a dog trainer. When you mentioned cooking, I was afraid you were classifying me as a servant. I know I was projecting my stuff onto you, but. . ." she paused. Telling the truth was hard. "All right, I'll just say it. I have my own issues and I was afraid."
CEO's S.O.S. Page 5